Looking at the calendar

I've been running around making different plans for different weekends this spring / summer. I sat down today, put it all together, and was a little taken aback. Did I really schedule all these things?

Coming up soon: A friend in town for the weekend. We've got more plans than we know what to do with - it promises to be a spectacular, jam-packed time.

The next weekend: a visit from my parents. I'm trying to craft the perfect itinerary, one that inspires them but does not exhaust them. Two Broadway shows will be involved. Also a tour of the Federal Reserve (that one's for my dad). A tour of Chelsea art galleries perhaps. Possibly a day trip somewhere outside the city. Definitely lots of walking.

The weekend after that: Jersey Shore beach weekend with friends. Promises to be amazing in that way that time with old friends is - nothing special has to happen. You just have to be together.

The weekend following: a road trip to Detroit with husband and brother. Give the good people of Detroit a little of our money, see some of the sights. I rarely see my brother too, so it'll be nice to spend time together.

The weekend after that: family wedding in North Dakota. A chance to see some relatives for the first time in nearly three years. Can't wait to catch up.

Dang! I didn't realize I had it in me to be so awesome! 

Washington was here (he's not here now, though)

Oh, Brooklyn. The love I have for you just keeps getting stronger.

I like walking, and my definition of "walking distance" is probably different than some people's. (When I lived in Chicago, for example, my apartment was walking distance from downtown - it only took me an hour and a half to get there.) With this mindset, I continue to be amazed at how many different things I can walk to here in Brooklyn. My newest point of interest: Greenwood Cemetery.

I know, a cemetery, right? You think maybe I'm stretching it to call it a point of interest? You'll just have to trust me on this one. Or maybe I can explain it to you somehow.

 

 Okay, so it's a cemetery. But it's beautiful. And enormous. If you were "anyone" in the 19th century, you were buried here. Your family members were too, right alongside you. If you had money, you had some sort of elaborate memorial built. A mausoleum perhaps. Or an obelisk. Or a pyramid. Yes, a pyramid. I saw one.

If you couldn't afford a pyramid (or had too much good taste to want one), you could simply have an elaborately-carved memorial pillar, like the one pictured above. All of posterity would know that you had been here, and that you had been someone who mattered while you were alive.

Greenwood is littered with the earthly remains of notable people. Leonard Bernstein, for example. I loved the fact that someone had left him a note. Did his music change that person's life? And the rocks - a Jewish tradition, right? What about the Ricola? He apparently battled emphysema for many years; an in joke? What an intimate setting! You can come so close to him, say or do something so personal. Give him a small gift.

Beyond the famous, Greenwood is full of the graves of regular people. This one (above) really caught my attention. Her name was Freelove! And she lived to be only 18. "But who can help to grieve to lose a gift like this"? I hope she and her parents were reunited.

One of the best parts of Greenwood is this spot, up on Battle Hill. The view is spectacular. Manhattan, Jersey, the Statue of Liberty, New York Harbor, Brooklyn brownstones - everything is spread out before you. The history behind Battle Hill is pretty spectacular as well; George Washington and his troops fought part of the first battle of the Revolutionary War on this very spot. It's funny to sit there then, and look out at the 19th century grave stones, early 20th century houses, shiny modern skyscrapers in the distance. Everything is just layers, isn't it. We add and add, sometimes tear down.

All it took was a broken shoulder

My mother-in-law came to town this weekend. She arrived at our apartment, looked around for a couple minutes, then slipped on our floor and broke her shoulder. Good times!

As she lay on the floor, writhing in pain, Oliver and I sort of stood there and gaped at each other. What just happened? What are we supposed to do? I don't have any experience with unexpected injuries / illnesses; are we supposed to call an ambulance? 911? Do we need to call an emergency room in advance? Can we just walk in?

Her nine-day trip became a 2 1/2-day trip. Insanity. I brought her to the airport today, wincing every time our cab drove over a pothole. She walked slowly, careful not to bump her not-yet-fixed-in-any-way shoulder. She  apologized several times for inconveniencing me, for making me take the afternoon off work.

Day to day, I live a very selfish life. I come home from work and think, "what do I want to do tonight?" I wake up Saturdays and wonder, "what do I feel like doing this weekend?" I have heard that some people regularly factor in things like spending an afternoon with a grandparent, helping a parent with some sort of home improvement project, assisting a sibling in some way. I don't do any of these things. I fly home once a year and spend that time enjoying the company of my family, not helping them. Sometimes I wonder if I'm still a child - taking, taking, rarely giving in return.

It was really nice then, to adjust my schedule today. I talked with the ticket attendant at JFK and tried to get my mother-in-law a better seat. I carried her suitcase. I double checked that she had Oliver's phone number and told her to call us if any problems arose. I rode the subway home, hoping she would make it back in one piece. It felt wonderful to be the giver.

I should call my parents. Maybe mail them something useful.